Heavy Liftin'
by RampantMuses
Summary: There's only so much a man can take. Jeremiah Riggs has been stretched to his limits when it comes to Jessalynne Robertson's high handed ways.


Heavy Lifting'

If there was one thing Jeremiah Riggs knew for certain, it was the fact that at this very moment, he hated his job. Working as head stable hand at Robertson Stables wasn't bad; he enjoyed the horses and his fellow stable hands Joe and Martin. The only downside was the boss' daughter, Jessalynne Robertson. He truly had come to loathe Jessalynne.

The petite and perky blond drove her pretty little sports car too fast, kept the pretty college boys chasing after her, and worst of all: She felt that she was better than him. Her usual form of amusement was bring a gaggle of snobby girlfriends to give him hell while he worked one of the horses in the riding ring or worse yet make fun of him as he mucked out the stalls, all of which were part of his daily tasks that put a little coin in his pocket. That was what galled him the most.

The only difference about today was that she was by herself. He shook his head as she flirted away with Martin and Joe, flipping her golden hair over her shoulder as he continued to muck out the stall of Watership Down, one of the best studs in the stables. He swiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, hiding his annoyance with his workmates as he shoveled soiled hay and horse manure into a red wheelbarrow.

"I'm glad to see you're keeping busy." Jessalynne purred as she approached the stall, hips swinging with each steep, causing him to grit his teeth. Didn't the spoiled little brat have anything better to do than annoy him?

"A man's gotta make a dollar or two somehow. Are you done distracting the others? I need my guys focused on the job, not on you." He inquired coolly, keeping his tone neutral as he headed out of the stall and down the long corridor to grab a fresh bale of hay. She sauntered along behind him, watching as he hefted a bale up effortlessly.

"There's nothing wrong with a little flirting, is there, Riggs?" She taunted lightly as he hefted the bale onto his broad shoulder and headed back to Watership's stall. He gave her a cursory glance, taking in her cut off jean shorts and white button down shirt. She was dressed like a blond Daisy Duke. He didn't dare linger on her long, tanned legs or he'd be in a world of trouble. While he might dislike her, it didn't escape his notice that Jessalynne was a knock out. The Blue Grass State of Kentucky sure knew how to grow 'em.

"No, but when you're keeping my guys from their job, I have a problem with it and so will your Daddy, especially since you're out here without him. By the way, does your Daddy approve of you wearing clothes that don't cover you, Jessie?" He retorted, relishing the heated stare she leveled at him. He knew she hated being called Jessie. He considered it an even trade after she'd called him Riggs.

"My name is Jessalynne and I'll ..."

She didn't even get a chance to finish her sentence. He whirled on her, the bale still balanced perfectly on his shoulders. He stepped to her, close enough she could smell the scent of his cologne and sweat. The warm, spicy scent combined with the rich smell of warm horse flesh and hay, making things low in her body go hot and tight. She'd never felt such heat before. What was it about Jeremiah that made her weak in the knees? Her violet blue eyes widened as he leaned into her.

"You want me to call you by your name? I think it's past time that you learned to use mine, Jessie." He spoke softly, venom lacing through his voice as his good ole' boy drawl caressed her name. With a curt smirk, he turned away and headed back to the vacant stall. Her blood was beyond the boiling point. How dare he act like she wasn't worth his time!

"You can't talk to me like that!" She objected haughtily, stomping after him. He tossed down the bale and whirled toward her, giving her a frosty stare that made her back up a few steps.

"When your Daddy's around, I'll treat you like a princess. But when you sashay in here to distract my guys and disrespect me, I'll talk to you however I damn well please. I don't know about you, but I treat people the way I want to be treated. When you treat me like nothing more than dog shit you got on the sole of your shoe, don't expect me to treat you like royalty. You haven't earned that from me."

Not even a horse made a sound in the wake of his angry words. Jessalynne stared at him, her eyes wide as he turned away to continue working, pulling his t-shirt over his head and threading it through one of his belt loops as he pulled the wheelbarrow from the stall along with the shovel and parked it outside the stable.

Jessalynne watched Jeremiah with unbridled contempt. How dare he speak to her as if she were some common trash! She had been Homecoming Queen and first runner up for Miss Kentucky! She was Harlan Robertson's daughter; she was to be put on a pedestal, to be petted and fawned over. However, Jeremiah was the first man who'd ever told her where to go and how fast to get there. There was something unbearably sexy about a man who was more than willing to put her in her place.

She licked her lips as he started putting down a layer of straw with a pitchfork. God, did he ever have a body! His right arm was completely sleeved in tattoos, as was his left elbow, and the left side of his torso. He was compactly built. His body all muscle; he didn't have an ounce of fat from what she could see. Her gaze lingered on his muscular back, wanting to dig her nails into flesh.

"Are you going to continue to undress me with your eyes?"

His words snapped her from her lustful thoughts, causing her cheeks to grow hot. He grinned as he forked more hay into the hay tick and spread the rest of it down on the stall floor.

"I did do half of the job for you, though..." He mused as he leaned the pitchfork against the door of the stall. Jessalynne felt her eyes go wide as he turned his complete attention to her. For once, he had all his intensity and focus that he put to training horses and cleaning stalls on her, and it unnerved her something fierce.

"Don't you even..."

"Your eyes don't lie, sugar." He mused as he sauntered toward her, his laser blue eyes focusing on her lips as he approached. She backed up against a stall, her lower back hitting wood. He tossed the pitchfork aside, bracing a hand on either side of her head, his fingers wrapping around the cool metal bars at the top of the stall. Slowly, he brought his gaze to meet hers.

"Maybe you want a man who tells you to go to hell. Maybe you want a man who'll take you over his knee and spank you like you deserve, you spoiled little brat. Does that make your panties wet, Jessie?" He drawled, his voice going velvet soft when he whispered her name. She gasped indignantly and attempted to duck under his arm. In a snap, he dropped his arm, his hand gripping her shoulder. He gave her a rough shove back against the stall, causing her to gasp as he pinned her there, not just by his hands, but with his eyes.

"Don't even bother trying to run away. That's exactly what you want and it scares you, don't it, Jessie?" He murmured, leaning in so close that his lips brushed against her cheek. She whimpered, trying her best to ignore the slow, throbbing ache that had settled between her thighs. As much as she wanted to play it off, he was hitting all the right buttons and it was unnerving as hell.

"Jeremiah..."

"Oh, so now you can say my name, huh? Say it again, Jessie. I want to hear the way your sweet little voice trembles when you do." He taunted, his lips caressed the delicate shell of her ear as he held her in thrall. While one hand held her shoulder, the other slipped from the bar and explored her. Slowly, he traced the line of her body; over her shoulder, around the curve of one perky breast. When his fingers reached the button tab of her cut off shorts, she whimpered in protest.

"Should I just shove my hand between your thighs and see just how wet you are? Should I explore your hot little box with my fingers, Jessie? "

He didn't wait for her response or her outrage. He thumbed the button tab open, sliding one hand under the delicate silk fabric of her bikini panties. He bit back a groan of satisfaction as he found the thatch of blond curls that covered her sex damp with her arousal. She whimpered again as his fingers parted her silken petals with utmost care. The pad of one work worn fingertip found her drenched pearl, unbearably hard and begging for his attention.

"Mm, such a wet pussy you have. Let's see what happens when I taste you." He purred, dropping to his knees before her. Jessalynne could do nothing but watch as he parted the two halves of her shorts and with a swift tug, pulled them and her panties down her legs. He let the denim and silk pool at her feet. Shoving her legs apart, he hooked one of her gloriously long legs over his shoulder and pressed his mouth over her quivering flesh. She moaned, her fingers sliding through his thick brown hair, tugging as his mouth consumed her. His tongue fluttered and flickered over her clit, teasing the needy bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue.

"Oh, Jeremiah!" She cried, her fingers entangling in his hair as he devoured her. He glanced up, his eyes meeting hers as he took her delicate pearl into his mouth to suckle. She bit back a scream as two thick fingers slipped into her waiting heat. He drew his fingertips along her silky channel, finding the hidden sweet spot within her and pressing against it rapidly. She bucked wildly, pressing even more of her wanton flesh into his mouth. She could feel herself getting closer; the burn of impending orgasm raced along her spine. He released her with a slick pop, withdrawing from her reluctantly. As much as he was enjoying tasting her, he had more pressing things on his mind.

He rose from the floor, his hands quickly unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. He'd had enough of the painful straining of his cock behind the copper fly of his jeans. He drew himself out; using his honey slicked fingers, he stroked her creaminess over the head of his cock, mixing her essence with the droplet of pre-come that had formed on the tip. She watched him, a mixture of horror and need crossing her face. His eyes which saw all didn't miss a beat.

"You want me to fuck you, Jessie? Is that what you want? Turn around and hold on to those bars real tight then. I promise to ride you hard and put you away wet." He ordered sharply, spinning her away from him. Before she'd even had chance to hold tight, he pushed her legs wider, the blunt head of his cock pressing against her delicate flesh. He teased her entrance, barely pushing his cock head into her before drawing it away. She pushed back against him, wanting nothing more than to have him fill her. He smirked softly; He wasn't just going to give it to her. He wanted her panting for his cock, panting for him to fuck her like none of those rich boys at the Country Club could.

"Beg for it, you little brat." He demanded, drawing his heated flesh over hers, the tip of him brushing over her clit. Her head bowed forward, a keening cry of frustration falling from her lips.

"Jeremiah...please..."

"What do you want, little girl? I bet those pretty boys that chase you have raging hard-ons for you, don't they? But you don't want a boy, do you? You want a man to soothe that ache between your legs, don't you? All you gotta do is say the word...I'll give what you're craving." He purred, stroking the tip of his cock from top to bottom, teasing the entrance of her paradise. She pressed back against him, rolling in her hips in blatant invitation. She was desperate.

He growled low in his throat as she ground herself against him. Jeremiah fisted his hand in her silky blond hair while his dominant hand laid a hard blow against her soft, rounded ass. She cried as he jerked her head back, his hand landing another slap against her vulnerable flesh.

"Beg for my cock, you spoiled little brat!" He commanded sharply, his hand coming down harder, raining blows against her pretty little ass. He grinned upon seeing her reddened flesh, smoothing a gentle palm over her palm marked skin. Jessalynne whimpered; she'd never felt anything akin to what she felt at that moment. She felt so helpless, so needy, so exquisitely stimulated. She'd never had that feeling with any man; she never thought she'd want it. Yet, the moment Jeremiah had touched her, she knew had to have more.

"Jeremiah, please!" She pleaded, her voice echoing down the empty corridor. His fingers gripped hard, almost painfully into the soft fleshiness of her hip. He bit out a low growl of pleasure as he surged forth into her tight heat. He held himself completely still, tamping down all urges to pound into her until he'd filled her with his seed. The fingers of his non-dominant hand tangled in her hair, yanking her back until she was flush against him. His mouth pressed softly against her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

"I'll take that. Brace yourself, I'm gonna break you to bridle, sugar." He growled softly, his grip on hair loosening as he drew back. He clasped her hips, fingertips digging into her silky flesh as he slammed home. She screamed; the sound echoing off the rafters, disturbing a couple of mourning doves in their nest. He chuckled softly as he pounded into her, rolling his hips with each thrust.

"_Ah..." _She cried out sharply, her hands gripping the bars of the top of the stall door hard enough to turn her knuckles white. He drew back, the honey slicked tip of his cock poised right at her opening. He bit down on his lip as he took in the view before him. She was so achingly bared to him, so ready to be claimed.

"Spread those long legs wider and arch your back." He ordered quietly, smiling wickedly as she did as she was told. He groaned as he shoved home, relishing how her tight pussy squeezed his cock to perfection. He withdrew, surging forward with amazing force, earning her cries and screams with each passing thrust. His hand fisted in her golden hair, yanking her head back again, pressing his mouth to her neck, sucking hard at the hollow that lie beneath her earlobe, knowing full well he'd leave a mark. He didn't care; as far as he was concerned, a little bruise here and there wouldn't hurt her. Hell, it might do her some good.

The sound flesh on flesh as his balls smacked against her mound, combined with her piteous whimpers overrode the sounds of the horses nickering in the almost empty stable. He groaned, feeling the burn of orgasm spilling up from his core, signaling that he was close. He continued to rut like a stallion on a mare in heat, thrusting deep and hard, not giving much regard to her pleasure, only for his own release. He observed as she slipped a trembling hand down to rub that sensitive nubbin, wanting to come as badly as he did. A part of him wanted to shove her off him and force her to her knees in the hay so he could cover that pretty face with his come, wanting to brand her in some obscene and visible way. Then the idea struck him; what better way to brand her as his than to fill her ever tightening pussy with it?

He could feel her silken walls clamping down on his surging dick, making it harder and harder to move. Gritting his teeth, he bore down, surging deeper still when she screamed his name, her body bowing forward, her grip on the stall bars slipping with each passing second. This time, it was his hand that caressed her hyper-sensitive clit as he continued to pound on, feeling the burn of impending orgasm growing exponentially. He felt her thighs trembling against him as he moved; she wouldn't be far from coming again. Her walls clamped down hard around his shaft, milking him as he continued to rock into her, growling with each labored thrust. His growl turned to a roar, echoing off the rafters as his orgasm burst through him, spilling his come deep within her. He fell forward, his sweat drenched chest collapsing against her back, their bodies shivering in tandem.

God, when had sex ever felt this good?

Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, he slipped from her as her body sagged to the stall floor, collapsing in a heap. He couldn't hide his smile as he watched his seed trickled down to coat her nether lips and the tight, puckered bud of her anus. He grabbed his t-shirt and wiped his slowly softening cock clean of his come and her juices before pulling on his jeans. She glanced up at him, expression dazed as she watched him buckle his belt.

"When will we…"

"When will we what, Jessie? When will we fuck again?" He inquired, grinning as she flinched at his words, even with his voice as quiet as it was at that moment. He knelt down beside her, plucking her damp panties out of the crumpled pile of her clothing and secreting them away in his pocket.

"You drive out to my neck of the woods, sugar. Then, we'll talk about fucking again." He answered, taking a handful of her blond strands in his fist and lifted her, his mouth closing over hers in a possessive kiss before releasing her to fall back to the floor. The sound of his booted footfalls was all she heard.


End file.
